


Implications

by Ka_she_who_lurks



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, OOC like whoa, Robbie is obsessive and tries not to be, Sportacus is somewhere between yandere and masochistic, but I'm really not, i'd say sorry, out of character like whoa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ka_she_who_lurks/pseuds/Ka_she_who_lurks
Summary: A short story in three scenes. Robbie tries to be sensible. Sportacus decides to be selfish for once. And then they kiss.It's a little darker than that, though.Oh, who am I kidding. The only reason this wouldn't be straight up darkfic is because it's short.





	Implications

Eventually a person gets to that age where they know exactly how their obsessions go.  
And mostly it wasn’t a problem, he knew how to divert things a little, and usually it’s just about a project or an idea or a skill or a branch of knowledge and it’s harmless enough, beneficial even, if sometimes a bit eccentric.  
Sometimes it’s even a simple matter of buying some odd or end that caught his interest.

And then a beautiful stranger came to town.  
Robbie Rotten took one good, hard look at the situation, and the more sensible part of himself went “fuck.”  
Having a person as an obsession was never a good idea. There’d be tears and recriminations and screaming arguments and too much giving and taking and the realization that you were hurting them and then you had to leave and settle somewhere entirely new and apologize and never see them again even if they were willing to forgive you, because you knew you’d go on exactly as before if you stayed. 

Robbie didn’t want to leave. He liked this place. So.  
The stranger had to go. 

 

Sportacus was perfect.  
The perfect hero. Perfectly healthy, perfectly agile, perfectly fast, perfectly strong, perfectly friendly. He didn’t know how not to be.  
He didn’t want to be not friendly, because that would hurt perfectly decent, normal people who often only tried to be friendly or kind to him, who often needed his help.  
Perfectly humble, perfectly personable, perfectly playful, perfectly forgiving, perfectly helpful.  
He liked helping people. It made him feel, for a moment at least, like he was useful, like he mattered at all. Play was good too. Talking to people was okay. Focusing on something, anything but himself was pretty great. Someone else, something to do, anything.  
Perfectly lonely. Perfectly numb. A perfect sham of a person pretending to feel. 

And then there was Robbie.  
Focused eyes. A spark of hatred. Beauty and imperfection, drama and emotion.  
Bringing with him the gift of surprise, of interest, of pain. He was creative and full of life and twisted vigor, in turns elegant and clumsy, spiteful, petty, with something worthwhile and caring at the core of him. Always, always targeting Sportacus. Always, always making him feel like he mattered, like he was special, like he could do things, like he was failable, like he could get hurt and bleed and feel alive.  
Robbie was magnificent. 

 

“Don’t you understand?” Robbie shouted at Sportacus, gesturing wildly. “It’s not romantic! Not in a way that leads to any kind of healthy relationship!”  
He grabbed as his hair, making a lock or two fall out of his slicked pompadour. “I’m trying to get rid of you because I am obsessing over you! I’ll destroy you whether I like it or not, and if I’m trying to go for love,” he said, his voice tipping into pleading hysteria at the last word, “I’ll only make it worse for you! I won’t mean to, but I will!” 

“That’s fine. That’s great Robbie. You can try and kill me, or erase me from existence, or hurt me in ways no-one but you would have thought of, and I can make sure no-one minds.”

Sportacus leaned in, and Robbie looked at him with wary eyes.  
A calloused thumb swept over a defined cheekbone, just where the concealer ended. Eager lips met slack, unresponsive ones, and as Robbie was kissed by Sportacus, he stood frozen in the knowledge that the local hero was a madman.  
Almost without noticing, he closed his eyes, and gently kissed back.  
Savoured the moment.  
Then bit down harshly. 

Sportacus jerked back in shock, his eyes alive with wild joy. The look he gave Robbie was a lot like love.  
“Wonderful.” He murmured from his bleeding mouth. “Just perfect.” He grabbed Robbie by the back of the head, and dove back for seconds.


End file.
